"Ness—ooh!"

"Yes," said Gerhardt, putting her down again. "That was a WREN'S nest.

They have all gone now. They will not come any more."

Still further they plodded, he unfolding the simple facts of life, she

wondering with the wide wonder of a child. When they had gone a block

or two he turned slowly about as if the end of the world had been reached.

"We must be going back!" he said.

And so she had come to her fifth year, growing in sweetness, intelligence, and vivacity. Gerhardt was fascinated by the questions she asked, the

puzzles she pronounced. "Such a girl!" he would exclaim to his wife.

"What is it she doesn't want to know? 'Where is God? What does He do?

Where does He keep His feet?' she asks me. I gotta laugh sometimes."

From rising in the morning, to dress her to laying her down at night after she had said her prayers, she came to be the chief solace and comfort of

his days. Without Vesta, Gerhardt would have found his life hard indeed

to bear.

CHAPTER XXVII

For three years now Lester had been happy in the companionship of

Jennie. Irregular as the connection might be in the eyes of the church and of society, it had brought him peace and comfort, and he was perfectly

satisfied with the outcome of the experiment. His interest in the social

affairs of Cincinnati was now practically nil, and he had consistently

refused to consider any matrimonial proposition which had himself as the

object. He looked on his father's business organisation as offering a real chance for himself if he could get control of it; but he saw no way of

doing so. Robert's interests were always in the way, and, if anything, the two brothers were farther apart than ever in their ideas and aims. Lester had thought once or twice of entering some other line of business or of

allying himself with another carriage company, but he did not feel that he could conscientiously do this. Lester had his salary—fifteen thousand a

year as secretary and treasurer of the company (his brother was vice-

president)—and about five thousand from some outside investments. He

had not been so lucky or so shrewd in speculation as Robert had been;

aside from the principal which yielded his five thousand, he had nothing.

Robert, on the other hand, was unquestionably worth between three and

four hundred thousand dollars, in addition to his future interest in the

business, which both brothers shrewdly suspected would be divided

somewhat in their favour. Robert and Lester would get a fourth each, they thought; their sisters a sixth. It seemed natural that Kane senior should take this view, seeing that the brothers were actually in control and doing the work. Still, there was no certainty. The old gentleman might do

anything or nothing. The probabilities were that he would be very fair and liberal. At the same time, Robert was obviously beating Lester in the

game of life. What did Lester intend to do about it?

There comes a time in every thinking man's life when he pauses and

"takes stock" of his condition; when he asks himself how it fares with his individuality as a whole, mental, moral, physical, material. This time

comes after the first heedless flights of youth have passed, when the

initiative and more powerful efforts have been made, and he begins to

feel the uncertainty of results and final values which attaches itself to everything. There is a deadening thought of uselessness which creeps into many men's minds—the thought which has been best expressed by the

Preacher in Ecclesiastes.

Yet Lester strove to be philosophical. "What difference does it make?" he used to say to himself, "whether I live at the White House, or here at home, or at the Grand Pacific?" But in the very question was the

implication that there were achievements in life which he had failed to

realise in his own career. The White House represented the rise and

success of a great public character. His home and the Grand Pacific were

what had come to him without effort.

He decided for the time being—it was about the period of the death of

Jennie's mother—that he would make some effort to rehabilitate himself.

He would cut out idling—these numerous trips with Jennie had cost him

considerable time. He would make some outside investments. If his

brother could find avenues of financial profit, so could he. He would

endeavour to assert his authority— he would try to make himself of more

importance in the business, rather than let Robert gradually absorb

everything. Should he forsake Jennie?—that thought also came to him.

She had no claim on him. She could make no protest. Somehow he did

not see how it could be done. It seemed cruel, useless; above all (though he disliked to admit it) it would be uncomfortable for himself. He liked

her—loved her, perhaps, in a selfish way. He didn't see how he could

desert her very well.

Just at this time he had a really serious difference with Robert. His

brother wanted to sever relations with an old and well established paint

company in New York, which had manufactured paints especially for the

house, and invest in a new concern in Chicago, which was growing and

had a promising future. Lester, knowing the members of the Eastern firm,

their reliability, their long and friendly relations with the house, was in opposition. His father at first seemed to agree with Lester. But Robert

argued out the question in his cold, logical way, his blue eyes fixed

uncompromisingly upon his brother's face. "We can't go on forever," he said, "standing by old friends, just because father here has dealt with them, or you like them. We must have a change. The business must be

stiffened up; we're going to have more and stronger competition."

"It's just as father feels about it," said Lester at last. "I have no deep feeling in the matter. It won't hurt me one way or the other. You say the house is going to profit eventually. I've stated the arguments on the other side."

"I'm inclined to think Robert is right," said Archibald Kane calmly. "Most of the things he has suggested so far have worked out."

Lester coloured. "Well, we won't have any more discussion about it then,"

he said. He rose and strolled out of the office.

The shock of this defeat, coming at a time when he was considering

pulling himself together, depressed Lester considerably. It wasn't much

but it was a straw, and his father's remark about his brother's business

acumen was even more irritating. He was beginning to wonder whether

his father would discriminate in any way in the distribution of the

property. Had he heard anything about his entanglement with Jennie? Had

he resented the long vacations he had taken from business? It did not

appear to Lester that he could be justly chargeable with either incapacity or indifference, so far as the company was concerned. He had done his

work well. He was still the investigator of propositions put up to the

house, the student of contracts, the trusted adviser of his father and

mother—but he was being worsted. Where would it end? He thought

about this, but could reach no conclusion.

Later in this same year Robert came forward with a plan for

reorganisation in the executive department of the business. He proposed

that they should build an immense exhibition and storage warehouse on

Michigan Avenue in Chicago, and transfer a portion of their completed


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